


Following Me and Mine

by busaikko



Series: R and D [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blind Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-09
Updated: 2005-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dinner and a relationship in 4 100-word drabbles.  With tuna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following Me and Mine

**Author's Note:**

> For lore and her tuna fetish (as per xylodemon's TWH Ficlet-a-thon). Title taken from ["As I Ebb’d with the Ocean of Life"](http://www.princeton.edu/~batke/logr/log_102.html) by Walt Whitman.
> 
> [Sweet illustration for the story](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v44/osmalic/wala_lang/beachfied.jpg) by osmalic. Thank you!

“You are _not_ getting a blowfish,” Remus said firmly, and steered Severus away from the tank he had been watching in fascination for the past ten minutes.

“The poison is said to be pleasant in trace amounts.”

“In the hands of a trained chef, yes. Here.” Remus paused in front of a display of non-poisonous, deceased fish artistically arranged on crushed ice. “How about a nice tuna?”

Severus gave the fish a calculating look.

“Is it fresh?” Remus asked, and was assured that it was caught not two hours ago. Remus’ sidelong glance was significant; Severus took out his wallet.

* * *

“I love that about the seashore,” Remus said, gesturing empathetically with Severus’ knife. “The… immediacy. Intimacy.”

Severus, feeling intimate with thirty centimetres of well-honed steel, took two steps back. “I can make dinner myself, you know,” he said, and didn’t miss the flash of hurt. “Don’t pretend you know the difference between garlic and ginger. Go move the kitchen table outside.” Remus’ eyes narrowed, recognizing a challenge. “If you break anything,” Severus warned, “we’ll lose our deposit. And look for candles.” He turned his back and relaxed fractionally as Remus’ particular genius for chaos was directed away from his dinner.

* * *

There were no other beach cottage occupants this late in the year: from the wooden porch overlooking the beach not a single person could be seen. The brilliant sunset lit the icy waves like a turbulence of diamonds. Overhead, gulls screamed.

The kitchen table was dressed in starched white; the candles were red; proper china and tableware had somehow been procured.

There was _sake_ ; they said _kampai_ and drained their glasses. The tuna, blue and red, was seared with garlic and served with ginger and green onion.

Remus watched Severus across the table, smiling faintly. Severus wondered what he saw.

* * *

Severus had learned the penalties exacted for sentences beginning, ‘At your age…’ Thus he held his peace as shoes were left behind and trousers rolled up futilely over Remus’ knees.

“Thank you,” Remus said.

“For what?” Severus said from above the tideline.

“This--” arms out, encompassing sea, stars, sky, sand. “When I burned down your house, I certainly didn’t think I’d get a trip to the shore.”

“You didn’t personally burn it down,” Severus reminded. “And the tent was getting cold.”

“I love you, you know.”

“And if you came out of the water, I might even kiss you.”

* * *


End file.
